


Day 1: Alcohol Addiction

by ArlenaTheWriter



Series: March Madness 2019 [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-08 23:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArlenaTheWriter/pseuds/ArlenaTheWriter
Summary: A little series I'm doing to keep me writing everyday. I may skip a day, but I'll make it up as soon as possible.Just a warning, this series will be incredibly dark, and is not recomended for an easily triggered audience.The main character goes unamed the entire chapter. He will go by "the man" or just simply "he."





	Day 1: Alcohol Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> A little series I'm doing to keep me writing everyday. I may skip a day, but I'll make it up as soon as possible.  
> Just a warning, this series will be incredibly dark, and is not recomended for an easily triggered audience.  
> The main character goes unamed the entire chapter. He will go by "the man" or just simply "he."

He staggered up from his seat by the bar. The dim light hurt his eyes, and his head was pounding, but the alcohol had numbed the pain to the point where he couldn’t even focus on it. The room seemed to spin, and he gripped the chair next to him so tightly that his knuckles turned as white as the snow outside. The bartender gave him a concerned look, but he ignored it, stumbling to the door. He ignored the looks everyone gave him, trying not to pay attention to the people shaking their heads and calling him a disgrace. What was wrong with gettin’ a few drinks? He shook his head. He hadn’t even had that much.

  
As the man stumbled out of the bar, he tried to recall how much he had to drink tonight. He shrugged and stumbled into the snow. He callled a cab and collapsed into the backseat, with a pained grunt. He told the driver his address, slurring his words. He ignored the drivers judgemental look and sigh, and just grunted, “Just drive,” his voice was gruff, and slightly angry. He leaned on the side of the door as the driver focused back to the road, and the cab began heading to his home.  
He didn’t remember any part of the drive, all he could recall was the driver telling him that they had arrived, and how he had fallen into the freezing cold snow. The driver shot him a concerned look, but he stood up, almost losing his balance again. He staggered to his doorstep and banged on the door angrily. He leaned against the door for a moment, waiting, before banging again angrily. The cab drove away quickly while he banged on the door. The man grumbled angrily to himself, I’m gonna kill that woman, as he opened the door forefully and staggered inside.

  
It was warm and dark inside the house, comforting for his eyes. However, it didn’t calm the boiling anger he felt towards his wife, Martha, and his daughter, Melanie. Don’t they know how to be courteous and open the door for him. He shouted for his wife, but got no answer. He let out a quiet growl and grabbed an empty beer bottle, trying to take a drink from it as he stumbled up the steps. He was halfway up the stairs when he realized the bottle was empty. He inspected it angrily and threw it at the wall, shattering the bottle and the glass picture frame it had colided with.

  
He finally made it up the steps and opened the door to his wife’s room. He put all his weight on the door, so that when it opened he fell to the ground suddenly. He let out a grunt of pain, waiting for his wife to come to his side and help him into his bed. But, as he stayed on the floor, Martha’s loving and gentle touch did not meet his skin. For a moment, his drunken haze was broken with a wave of concern. However, the breach was soon covered with a flash of anger and he struggled to push himself up quickly.

  
He looked around the dark room quickly, but found that Martha was nowhere. “Mar?” He asked quietly, getting up completely and staggering to the bed. When he discovered that she wasn’t underneath the sheets he turned around. “Martha, where are you? Show yourself at once!” Despite slurring his words a bit, his voice was gruff and angry, seeming powerful, despite his succumbed state. He staggered across the room a bit, looking for his wife before deciding to leave the room and find Melanie.

  
He opened the door to Melanie’s room and called out her name angrily, keeping his tone loud and raised. When there was no response, he faltered forward, and tore the blankets off of Melanie’s bed. She, just like Martha, was nowhere to be found. He growled and checked Melanie’s closet. Nothing. His vision was starting to haze as he began trying to search the house. He kept backtracking and bumping into things. The floor was soon littered with glass and objects. His breathing was getting frantic and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as his headache began to make itself noticeable. He slid to the ground and closed his eyes, passing out.

-1 Week Later-

It had been a week since Martha and Melanie had left him alone in his house. According to the note he had found in the afternoon after coming home, they would not return until he could fix his “alcohol problem.” When he had first read it, he had been enraged. He didn’t have a problem with alcohol. He didn’t drink that much, and he only went out three days of the week. There was also the contact information on an addictions councillor, but he didn’t pay attention to it. Instead, he ripped the note up and broke some more bottles to relieve his anger.

  
His first solution to this issue was to drown his lonlieness and anger in alcohol, but he had stopped himself. He tired to stay sober all week, but slipped up a few times. After those times, nothing could stop the crushing guilt that was suffocating him. He tried to clean up the house, take extra hours off work, anything to get his mind off of the thought of going to the bar and numbing all of his senses. He was doing his best to be completely responsible, but it was challenging.

  
_A few drinks can’t hurt_ , a voice crawled into his head as he got into his car. The man shook his head. A few drinks led to many, and he had to prove to Martha that he could stay sober. _Who says she’ll know? She’s already long gone. Staying sober doesn’t matter. You are in control_ , the voice came back. He tried to protest against the urges, but this voice inside him kept reminding him of the joys of getting drunk. How nice it felt for everything to drift away. He found himself slowly losing control, and yet the voice assured him that it was going to be alright and he would be okay.  
_But Martha-_ , he thought, tears welling in his eyes. She couldn’t have left him, and she said she’d be back. He let out a few sobs, breaking down in his car, which he hadn’t even started. He curled up a bit, trying to quiet his mind, but every time he did, it reminded him that the voices only quiet once he drinks. He was trying so hard to stop them, but he was losing control so quickly, and soon, he had no power left.

-1 Hour Later-

The man was drunk again. Terribly drunk. The bartender checked the clock and turned to him. “Alright sir, you gotta leave. We’re closing up.”

  
He looked up, blinking slowly as the information was processed inside his head. “A few more drinks.” He responded, hiccuping and slurring his words. He couldn’t even remember what the bartender had said, just that they were giving him a stern look. He leaned on the table lazily, feeling so very tired. Any thoughts of Martha or Melanie had been wiped from his mind completely, and he was grateful for it. Now he just wanted more. He wanted to make up for all of the days he had been absent here.

  
“I’m sorry sir, but you have to leave.” The bartender insisted and the man grunted, sliding of the chair, surprisingly keeping his blalance the entire time, as he stumbled out of the bar.

  
Before he left he turned to the bartender and said, “Imma go to a different bar. Get more drinks.” He hiccuped and smiled. The bartender opened their mouth to remind him that most bars in the area were already closed, but the man had already stumbled outside into the cold. The man faltered to his car with a smile, so glad to be free from his thoughts. He opened to the car door, and falling in. He started the car up, as his vision began to blur, and took off.

  
Things were going well until a smal thought went through his head. _Remember Martha?_ His heart ached in response, and tears formed slightly in her eyes. _You failed her. She’ll never come back. You’re too unstable._ He sped up, trying to ignore the voice, but it’s words kept echoing in his head. He was reaching the highway, where, despite how late it was, many cars were using.

  
_You should just let go. There’s no reason to really go home._ He shook his head and kept driving. His vision was blurring; he was speeding up without knowing. The man thought he was going straight, but he was veering to the right as he sped up quickly. It wasn’t long before he reached the highway and collieded with another car. The force of the collision sent his head forward onto the window, due to him forgetting to put his seatbelt on.

  
The injury to his head from the window knocked him out instantly. Had he been conscious, he might have been able to get out of the wreck before it exploded…

**Author's Note:**

> A few things before you leave.  
> Not all alcoholics are cruel like this. Most in fact aren't, but alcohol can be closely connected to violence.  
> There are so many addiction councilors out there who can help people who are addicted to anything from drugs to alcohol. It's hard to go up to someone and tell them you have an addiction, but it is a step forward to being able to get free from your addiction. If you, or someone else you know has an addiction with anything, the first thing to do is to forward them to a nearby addiction councilor. They can help your situation.  
> As I said, having addiction does not mean that someone is dangerous, or terribly unstable, but, it can acelerate to that, or can lead to not just mental issues, but physical issues, such as liver damage, or other consequenses with addictions.  
> Reach out!


End file.
